Morning
by Alina
Summary: Poor John. The Atlantean shippers are speculating, and he's caught in the crossfire. Just cleaned up the tenses.


Title: Morning

Rating: G

Category: Humor

Summary: Poor John. The Atlantean shippers are speculating, and he's caught in the crossfire.

Spoilers: Minor ones for '38 Minutes.'

Author's Notes: Somehow, I feel like the wording in the fic just doesn't work, but I'm really unsure on how to clean it up. Please comment with criticism/comments about anything so I can work on it!

Major John Sheppard wasn't a morning person. Sure, when he was on a mission in unknown or hostile territory he could bring himself from deep sleep to complete awareness in thirty seconds or less (if he didn't, he'd probably be dead), but on days when he had the luxury of sleeping in the safety and comfort of home (home being an austere and futuristic city in the middle of an ocean in a completely different galaxy than the real Home), he wasn't a morning person. He needed at least an hour to wake up completely, as well as a decent cup of coffee.

Much to his dismay, Elizabeth had scheduled their next off world mission briefing for 0700. And so, here he was, at 0610, sitting in the mess with his unfinished breakfast as he nursed his single precious cup of coffee. Aiden joined him earlier, looking bleary-eyed but ever-cheerful, and they chatted about nonsensical things in order to speed up the process of turning their brains on. It seemed to work better for Ford, for by 0620 he appeared completely awake and ready to go while John still couldn't remember what he had just eaten. It was still slated as 'Unidentified Food #26' in his mind.

He was conscious enough to register the arrival of Dr. McKay to the scene at 0622, an event that made him frown. McKay was just too annoying to deal with at this hour of the morning.

"Good morning soldiers!" he said brightly, plopping his tray down front of Sheppard before anyone could object to his presence. Aiden smiled good-naturedly at the Doctor and asked him a random question while John remained mute, analyzing Ford's reaction. If he disliked McKay half as much as he did, he was far too nice to show it. John, on the other hand, disguised his disappointment at the scientist's arrival by grunting and taking another sip of his drink. McKay didn't notice anything amiss and sat down before beginning to scarf down his food. He paused briefly only to gulp down half a mug of his own coffee in one shot.

"Did either of you hear about the standoff Weir had with Kavanagh while we were stuck on the jumper the other week?" McKay asked suddenly in a giddy tone.

"Yes," John answered flatly. Of course he knew. Rumors spread like wildfire in Atlantis. The entire city had known within five minutes of the event. The Athosian children had known five minutes before anyone had told them. It was like the Athosians were psychic. McKay nodded, jamming some more food into his mouth with a fork, and changed the subject.

"...I think Teyla called it a...in any case, speaking of her..." he drawled. That man could have a complete conversation with himself. John tuned him out.

Maybe the Athosians were psychic. Or empathic, even. Like that race of aliens from Star Trek...what were they called again? The Betotoids? Betazoids? Come to think of it, Teyla did remind him of Deanna Troi sometimes...

"Major?" McKay's hyperactive voice broke through the haze of his incoherent thoughts. Damn. He was still not fully awake. More coffee was in order.

"Muh?" John replied in a daze. He'd clearly been out of it long enough for McKay to dash off on some random tangent, and now he didn't have a clue what the Canadian was talking about.

"Is. It. Truuuuue?" McKay repeated slowly, treating the pilot as if he were six years old.

"What's true?" John managed to spit out. Now he was just plain confused. His brain, in the meantime, toddled off of its on volition into comparing McKay to that annoying character from the Matrix movies that operated Niobe's ship.

McKay rolled his eyes. "About you and Teyla."

John stared blankly at McKay for a couple of seconds before answering. "...McKay, I have no idea what the hell you're talking about."

The scientist made a noise that John thought might be his equivalent of a giggle. "It's gotta be true then. You can't fool me! I can read people as if they were an open book!" he proclaimed triumphantly. Ford stifled a laugh.

"No, seriously, wha-"

"So I guess the _other_ rumor is false, then. The one about you and Elizabeth."

"Me and Eliz...huh?"

McKay's jaw dropped. "You mean it's true, too?"

"Wha?!"

"Oh, relax. I won't tell on you," McKay assured him off-handedly before checking his watch and standing up. "Well, it's been fun kids, but I've got to prepare for our morning briefing," he announced. Before Sheppard could call him back and demand an explanation, he was gone.

"What the hell was he talking about?" he asked Ford, who snorted in response.

"You mean you really don't know?"

"No!"

"He asked you if you were really making out with them after the party. And I think he thinks you said yes."

"Making out? With who?" Ford didn't mean who he thought he meant, right?

"Teyla...and Dr. Weir."

"What?!" John exclaimed. If nothing else, what Ford had just told him had brought his brain to full functionality as quickly as the sound of an incoming hostile. Shit. If McKay went prancing around and saying that he had admitted to doing _that_, then he was going to be in Very Big Trouble. Weir and Teyla would have his head. Or worse, they would take his...

"Oh no..." he mumbled, realizing what _could_ happen if either of the women caught wind of this.

Ford smiled reassuringly and patted him on the back. "Don't worry. There's only twenty minutes until the briefing. You can warn Teyla and Dr. Weir about McKay's....statements when it's done. He can't cause that much damage between now and then."

"You're right," John eventually agreed. Yes. That made sense. There was only twenty minutes. Then they'd be in the conference room, and no one would disturb them. He could explain it all to them afterwards. No harm done. There was no way any rumor could spread that fast, right?

Twenty minutes later, John sauntered into the briefing room feeling much more at ease, and completely conscious (finally!). He took a moment to gauge Elizabeth and Teyla's moods, and breathed a sigh of relief. If they were pissed, it wasn't apparent. He was probably safe. An hour later, the meeting was done, and he felt completely better. In fact, he was in a great mood.

"Major Sheppard, could I ask you a question? Someone said a phrase that I am not familiar with and I would like to know what it means," Teyla asked innocently as everyone rose from their seats to go about their business and prepare for the upcoming mission.

"Of course! Ask me anything," he answered cheerily.

"What is....tonsil hockey?"

He caught a smug look of vengeance flash across both Teyla and Elizabeth's faces as Aiden and McKay made a quick escape, leaving him alone with the two women. He sucked at reading the female mind, but he didn't even have to be a Betazoid to know that he was screwed.

As he prepared himself for battle, John made a mental note: When this was over – provided he survived – he ought to kill McKay. Repeatedly.

Last edited September 28, 2004.


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